


Mora

by arituzz



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mental Link, Soulmates, Unique shared language, author is very sleep deprived, there is a little bit of angst there in between
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arituzz/pseuds/arituzz
Summary: Simon is eleven years old and he has no friends and no family. There’s a voice inside his head that only he can hear, speaking a language only he can understand. And it may sound crazy, but that’s the only thing that keeps Simon from going insane. (Even though everyone already thinks he’s completely mental.)OR soulmate au in which you can communicate with your soulmate/s in a language only you understand





	Mora

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pandaanna01](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandaanna01/gifts).



> I sort of “made up” a language for this but if you pay close attention you can actually understand it. Can you crack the code?  
> (Hint: it’s Spanish-based)  
> (Translations are at the end.)

It starts the same way great things always do: casually.

Simon is having lunch–or what the people taking care of him consider lunch–with dozens of other children around him, all being as loud as children are supposed to be, some even louder, thinking about how much he wants them to just shut up, when Simon hears it for the first time.

“ _Paculdis?_ ”

Simon looks around him but no one is paying him any attention. Simon must have misheard. He decides to ignore it and finish his plate, even though a strange thought settles in the back of his mind: it kind of feels like the voice has come from… inside his head?

The second time, Simon’s snuck out of his dormitory and gone up to the roof again. He’s lying on the floor, looking at the night sky, when someone voices his thoughts.

“ _Éuq cheno nat tanibo_.”

It is not a voice belonging to any person Simon knows. In fact, it actually sounds like  _Simon’s_  voice. Except, he hasn’t said anything.

Simon brushes it off again and keeps contemplating the stars, a soft smile drawing on his face.

The third time he hears it, it strikes Simon that the language isn’t English.

“ _Bessa euq se ed lama cióncaedu rarnoig a guienal euq et táes doblanha?_ ”

And it should be English.

“ _Teve a al damier_ ,” Simon replies, jokingly, inside his head.

It should be English because Simon doesn’t understand any other language, much less speak them.

But it clearly isn’t English. And Simon does understand it. (And speak it.)

It doesn’t make sense. But that doesn’t matter – most things don’t make sense to Simon, anyway.

Simon is eleven years old and he has no friends and no family. There’s a voice inside his head that only he can hear, speaking a language only he can understand. And it may sound crazy, but that’s the only thing that keeps Simon from going insane. (Even though everyone already thinks he’s completely mental.)

So, Simon keeps talking to the voice.

Simon learns the hard way that he’s the only one in foster care with a voice in his head. The other kids mock him and the adults don’t believe him. But he refuses to think he’s the only one in the world. He  _knows_  that somewhere out there, there is a person with Simon’s voice in his head. The voice told him so.

The voice becomes Simon’s friend, his only friend. They teach Simon to defend himself from the other kids. They sing him lullabies at night, so Simon can sleep. They’re the only person who care about Simon.

Simon doesn’t know their gender, he doesn’t care. But he wants to stop calling them “the voice” so he asks for their name.

 _“Despue memarlla Gomia,”_ the voice answers.

“ _Gomia_ ,” Simon repeats. And then he says it again, out loud. He fucking loves how it sounds. Simon knows it’s not their real name, but that’s fine.

Gomia doesn’t ask for Simon’s name, they just call him Mora, and Simon goes with it.

* * *

Then Simon starts at Watford and he meets Penny, who tells him that the voice in his head is actually a connection between soulmates, that it’s a thing of the World of Mages.

“My soulmate, Micah, lives in America,” Penny tells him. “But he’ll come to Watford as an exchange student as soon as his school lets him.”

So, that means Gomia is Simon’s soulmate.

“Have you met them?” asks Penny.

“Micah?” Simon asks, stupidly.

“No, idiot.  _Your_  soulmate,” Penny says.

“No,” Simon answers, realizing he doesn’t really know anything about Gomia. He feels like he knows them–like he knows them very deeply–but they haven’t actually shared any personal information.

“What’s their name?” Penelope asks.

“Gomia.”

“That’s a weird name.”

 _That’s a made up name_ , Simon thinks. Gomia doesn’t want Simon to know who they really are. Simon shrugs. If that’s what they want, Simon will respect it. “Yeah,” he says.

Gomia is supposed to be Simon’s soulmate. It’s hard to process. Simon has always thought of them as a friend. His only friend. But thinking about them as his soulmate feels… right.

Simon meets Agatha and he’s completely stunned by her beauty. He wishes–he hopes–she’s Gomia. Agatha smiles at him.

Simon tells Gomia all about the school of magicks, without giving away any name. He tells them about Baz, his irritating roommate. He tells them about Penny, his second best friend. He doesn’t tell them about Agatha, though. Because if it’s really her, then she’d know, and Simon is afraid that might scare her away.

Simon’s bond with Gomia keeps growing throughout the years. And it’s absolutely clear: he loves them. In every way.

Which makes it unbearably painful when fifth year comes, and Gomia goes.

Simon and Agatha start dating, so Simon guesses–hopes–that she got tired of talking to him through the soulmates connexion. Simon supposed it made sense, if they already could communicate with each other in real life, why should they keep the mental bond?

But the fact that it should make sense doesn’t make it any less painful. And the worst of it all is, Simon doesn’t have anyone to tell. And, he’s dying to tell Agatha, but he can’t. Because he can’t lose her.

* * *

Simon tries talking to Gomia the summer after fifth year. Nothing.

He tries again after sixth year. Still nothing.

Even after that, Simon doesn’t lose hope. He tries once more after seventh year. It’s been years, but not a single day has passed in which Simon hasn’t thought about Gomia. But there’s still no answer.

Eighth year starts and Simon can’t hold it in anymore. He feels like, if he keeps this for himself any longer, he will explode.

Simon faces Agatha one day. They’re in the Great Lawn and even though their relationship has gone a bit cold, and even though it doesn’t feel completely right, Simon has to try.

“Gomia,” he starts, taking Agatha’s hand. “ _Rop éuq ay on em blasha_?”

“Simon…” Agatha says, letting go of his hand. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. “I’m not your soulmate.”

Simon moves to take her hand back but she doesn’t let him. “Of course you are, Agatha.”

“I’m not the voice in your head,” she says. “I don’t have a soulmate.”

“I don’t care,” Simon says. It doesn’t matter, he  _wants_  to be with her. “Agatha? I said I don’t care. Fuck the voice, fuck this soulmates bullshit. I want to be with you.”

“Well, I care,” Agatha says, standing up. “I’m sorry, Simon. I can’t do this anymore.”

And like that, she leaves.

That day, Simon tries it one last time. “ _Et dioo_ ,” he tells Gomia. It’s not true, he can’t hate Gomia, but he wants to hurt them the same way they’ve hurt him.

Nothing.

But that’s not the worst thing. Baz is missing, too. Which obviously means he’s up to something.

Simon looks for him everywhere, but he can’t find him. And that only makes him angrier.

* * *

It’s one day at night when he hears it again.

“ _Mora…_ ”

Simon thinks he’s dreamt it but he has to try anyway.

“ _Gomia_?”

“ _Mora_.”

And just like that, Gomia comes back to Simon’s life, and it feels like they’ve never left. Now that they’re back, Simon wonders how could he possibly have lived without them.

The day Baz comes back, he tells Gomia before going to sleep.

“ _Ah tovuel im roñepacom ed tocuar_ ,” he tells them, while he looks at Baz sleeping. He wonders where he’s been all this time. What he’s been plotting.

Gomia asks, “ _Ol baschae ed nosme?_ ”

“ _Ne tolusoab,_ ” Simon tells them. “ _Et bachae ed nosme a it_ ,” Simon says, because it’s true–he has missed Gomia. So freaking much.

“ _Oy biéntam_.”

It’s dark in the room, and it’s impossible anyway because Baz isn’t capable of such thing but… he almost looks like he’s smiling.

Simon closes his eyes, and that night, for the first time in months, he can finally sleep.

Simon doesn’t ask Gomia about their disappearance. It doesn’t matter now. He’s so bloody happy to have them back.

Their friendship, or whatever it is, Simon isn’t sure, keeps growing day after day, one late night conversation at a time.

Simon makes it a routine–the same way he had some years ago before Gomia stopped talking to him–every night, he waits for Baz to fall asleep and then turns around to talk to Gomia.

Gomia knows about Baz. They don’t know his name, of course, but they know everything else: that he hates Simon, that he’s evil, that he eats salt and vinegar crisps when he thinks Simon is asleep; that he doesn’t feel like an enemy anymore.

* * *

Time goes by and Simon and Baz’s friendship starts unexpectedly and, like a thunder, it rapidly becomes powerful.

Simon doesn’t hide from Baz anymore when he talks to Gomia.

“Good night, Baz,” he tells him. “Gonna talk to my soulmate.”

“‘Night, Simon,” Baz says.

Baz becomes Simon’s third best friend. And Simon loves it. He really does. But… Simon kind of wants to get the relationship to a whole new level. He  _loves_ Gomia but Baz is right there, in the flesh. And he’s doing homework on his desk and a strand of hair falls onto his face and Simon’s hand is already tucking it behind Baz’s ear before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Baz…”

Baz looks at him but doesn’t say anything.

Instead, it’s Gomia who speaks. “ _Mora_ …”

Simon inwardly curses Gomia’s terrible timeliness and tells them he can’t talk now.

But the moment’s lost, and Gomia’s intervention actually reminds Simon of something he’s wanted to ask Baz for a long time. “Do you have a soulmate?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Do you… love them?”

Baz swallows. “Yes,” he breathes more than says.

Simon wants to ask Baz a gazillion questions about his soulmate, like what their name is or where they live, he really wants to be a supportive friend. He wants to feel happy for Baz. But all he can say is, “Oh.”

Simon swallows the lump in his throat and tries to ignore the way his heart is cracking.

That night he tells Gomia. He tells them he’s in love with someone. Even if it’s unrequited, Simon needs to tell them. Gomia says they’re a bit sad that Simon is in love with someone else but that it’s fine.

* * *

The next day Baz is gone. Simon doesn’t see him all day. He guesses Baz is uncomfortable that Simon almost kissed him so he lets him be. But night comes and Baz is still nowhere to be seen. Simon needs to fix it. He doesn’t want to lose his friend.

So he goes to the only place Baz can be that late in the night: the Catacombs.

He finds Baz there, sitting on the floor, his back resting against the wall, his face hidden behind his hand.

“Baz!” Simon calls him. “Don’t do this.”

Baz withdraws the hand from his face and looks at Simon, surprised. “Do what?”

“Avoid me,” says Simon, now before him. “We’re friends.”

Baz doesn’t say anything.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Simon asks.

Baz turns his head away from Simon, still silent.

“Answer me,” Simon says, falling on his knees and grabbing Baz’s face. “Baz.”

Baz’s eyes are piercing Simon’s. “ _Quepor et moa, tadioi,_ ” he says, very quietly.

Simon’s heart jumps.

Baz is Gomia.

“Gomia,” he says.

Gomia is Baz.

“Mora–” Baz says.

And then Simon kisses him.

 _That_. That feels so bloody right.

“Wait,” Simon says, letting go of Baz’s mouth but still holding his face. “So, you knew?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?” Simon inquiries.

Simon feels Baz’s hand on his cheek. “Sixth year,” Baz says.

“How?”

“You talk in your sleep.”

“Oh,” Of course. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We were enemies,” Baz says, his voice breaking a little. “And you were with Wellbelove.”

“That’s when you stopped talking to me?”

“No, you don’t get it,” says Baz. “I didn’t stop talking to you because I discovered you were my soulmate. I stopped because I thought you  _weren’t_ , and I wouldn’t have a soulmate that wasn’t you.” Baz lets out a breath. “Simon,” he says. “I  _chose_  you.”

“Then why didn’t you speak to me again when you discovered?”

“I just… couldn’t,” Baz says. “You hated me. Both as Baz and as Gomia.”

“I didn’t hate you,” Simon admits. “So you just talked back when Agatha and I broke up?”

“No,” says Baz. “I didn’t know that yet. I just… needed you. To stay sane.”

“I missed you.”

“Yeah you told me.”

“No,” says Simon. “I mean, I lied. I missed  _you_ , Baz.”

“But we were enemies.”

Simon shrugs. “I missed you, anyway.” Simon moves to get closer to Baz again but he stops midway. “Wait. I still don’t get it,” he says. “If you knew… Then why are you hiding from me now?”

Baz looks away. “You told me you like someone else.”

No way. “ _Dopitúes_.” Fucking. Idiot. “ _You_  are the someone else.”

“I am?”

Simon nods as he closes the distance between him and Baz.

“Mora,” Baz says, so low it’s almost a whisper.

“Can I call you Mora, too?” Simon asks.

“Yes,” Baz says, the smile on his lips filling his voice. “Love.”

Simon kisses him. He kisses him so much it’s hard to breathe. But it doesn’t matter.

“ _Mora_.”

It doesn’t matter because he’s kissing Baz. Gomia. Mora.

Baz, his friend.

Baz, his love.

His soulmate.

-NIF-

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Paculdis? = ¿Disculpa? = I’m sorry?
> 
> Éuq cheno nat tanibo = Qué noche tan bonita = What a lovely night
> 
> Bessa euq se ed lama cióncaedu rarnoig a guienal euq et táes doblanha? = ¿Sabes que es de mala educación ignorar a alguien que te está hablando? = Do you know it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you?
> 
> Teve a al damier = Vete a la mierda = Fuck off
> 
> Despue memarlla Gomia = Puedes llamarme Amigo = You can call me Friend
> 
> Gomia = Amigo = Friend
> 
> Mora = Amor = Love
> 
> Rop éuq ay on em blasha? = ¿Por qué ya no me hablas? = Why don’t you talk to me anymore?
> 
> Et dioo = Te odio = I hate you
> 
> Ah tovuel im roñepacom ed tocuar = Ha vuelto mi compañero de cuarto = My roommate’s back
> 
> Ol baschae ed nosme? = ¿Lo echabas de menos? = Did you miss him?
> 
> Ne tolusoab = En absoluto = Not at all
> 
> Et bachae ed nosme a it = Te echaba de menos a ti = I missed you
> 
> Oy biéntam = Yo también = Me too
> 
> Quepor et moa, tadioi = Porque te amo, idiota = Because I love you, idiot
> 
> Dopitúes = Estúpido = Stupid
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
